In Memorium
by Sue Penkivech
Summary: When Bobby learns of Jean's death, he pays his respects at a place special to them both


Disclaimer: I don't own Bobby. Or Jean. Or the mansion, or the lake...you get the idea.

Special thanks to Beaubier for telling me it was ok to cry, to Taekwondodo for beta-ing, and to Jen for hugs and hair ruffles.

**In Memorium**

Bobby stood at the foot of her grave, looking down at the tombstone.

Jean Grey-Summers. She Will Rise Again.

Closing his eyes, he let his head droop forward, and wished he could cry, like he had the first time he'd stood here, just like this, looking down at her tombstone.

He hadn't been there for her then, either.

And damn, she'd _always_ been there for him.

Turning his back on her grave, he began the trek out to the lake. And remembered.

He'd been sixteen, and scared, the first time. So damn scared. Of everything, really. He'd been putting up a good front, he always did, when the guys were around. He had to, had to prove he wouldn't be a liability to the team. Had to prove he was just as okay with his mutation as everyone else. Had to prove that, just because he was the youngest, he wasn't the weak link.

And, sometimes, it was just too much to prove.

He was outside, by the lake. Freezing and unfreezing its surface by turns, for no reason other than that it kept him from thinking. And damn, he'd been doing far too much thinking, that day.

He'd been thinking about Judy, mostly, and how she'd reacted when she found out what a freak her new boyfriend was. Even though they'd known each other for years, for what seemed like forever, really, and even though he'd done it to save her.

He couldn't even write her to try to explain. She didn't remember him anymore.

And damn, that hurt more than anything. Because he still remembered her. Why the hell hadn't the Professor done something about _that_.

He heard footsteps behind him, and turned, blinking away the tears that were hanging in his eyes.

"Bobby? Are you ok?" she'd asked.

He'd just glared at her.

Everyone loved Jean. Scott, Warren, Hank, they'd all been a little in love with her, back then. Everyone but him. Because, damn, he'd _been_ in love. Or he'd thought he had, at least. And Jean…Jean was just a constant reminder of the loss.

Ignoring his glare, she'd come over and crouched down next to him at the edge of the lake, balancing herself by putting her hand on his shoulder, and looked into his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she'd asked, concern creasing her forehead.

"Nothing," he'd replied, turning his head. "There's nothing wrong. Just leave me alone, ok?"

She hadn't left. Ignoring the fact that the ground was wet, she'd sat down next to him instead and just looked out over the lake. They'd sat there, in silence, for what seemed like an eternity.

"It's not easy sometimes, is it?" she'd asked finally, her voice startling him out of his self-induced misery. "We're given so much, but so much is taken away, too. It doesn't seem fair."

"It…isn't," he heard himself saying. "It's not fair." Because, damn, it just wasn't. Everything he'd cared about, everything he'd fought so hard to keep over the years since he'd first manifested, all taken away in one night. And it had all come home tonight.

It would've been the six month anniversary of his first date with Judy. Not a big deal, really, but it had gotten him thinking. Six months since the Iceman first appeared on the scene, and was nearly lynched by a mob. Six months he'd spent here, fighting so that people like the ones who'd tried to kill him would be safe. Six months…the tears began to flow, and he couldn't stop them, and suddenly Jean was just pulling him into her arms, rubbing his back as he bawled on her shoulder. Because, damn, it just wasn't fair…

He felt tears that weren't his own drip on his face, and looked up through swollen eyes to find Jean, her eyes misty as well, looking down at him with a sad sort of smile on her face.

"It isn't fair. But, you know what?" Straightening up, she released him, and looked out toward the lake, gesturing past it. "Somewhere, out there, is another sixteen year old kid. And maybe, just maybe, something we do is going to help him not go through what you did. Or what I did," she added, wiping a hand across her own eyes. "And, well, maybe that's not as good as having back everything we've lost. But at least we've got each other; a new family, really, and maybe that person wouldn't be so lucky."

He'd swallowed down the last of his tears, and looked out at the lake, at the full moon reflected in its surface, wondering just how Jean had known what was wrong. No one else had thought of it…but Jean, who hadn't even been here at the time, had known. They sat, again in silence, until finally Jean got to her feet, then bent down to ruffle his hair.

"Y'know, there's something to be said for having a new family. I always wanted a little brother," she said lightly, reaching out with one hand to pull him to his feet. Her eyes were still too bright, and her smile too forced, but he'd had to respond with one of his own. Because, well, her smile was like that.

"Is the position still open?" he'd asked, letting her pull him to his feet.

"Nah, I think I've found one," she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and leading him back towards the mansion.

They'd repeated the ritual throughout the years many times, too many to remember, tonight. When Lorna'd dumped him for Alex, he'd made the trip down to the lake, and Jean had joined him there. When she'd grown tired of Scott ignoring her interest, the positions reversed, but the pilgrimage was the same. So many times, for so many reasons that had seemed so important at the time. And the first time she'd…died, he'd come out here alone once he heard. Because he hadn't been there for her, when she'd needed him most.

Just like he hadn't been this time. And, despite Jean's propensity for rising from the ashes, who knew if he'd ever have another chance.

He looked out over the lake from his seat at its bank, and swallowed back the tears he couldn't shed from eyes of ice. A reflex, really, nothing more, because now the tears wouldn't form.

He wasn't even sure if she'd ever known what had been happening with him, this time. He hadn't told her, hadn't wanted her to know, and she hadn't pressed him. In retrospect, it all seemed…so ridiculous. So unimportant, really. But somehow, it had been, really, really important to him that Jeannie remember him as that kid at the lake…her little brother. It had been her words, that night, that had brought him back to the X-Men, time after time. Because, no matter how unfair it was, somewhere out there, it was even less fair for someone else.

Closing his eyes, he imagined he could feel her hand ruffling his hair, a final parting gesture from his big sister. Just letting him know she understood and that everything would be okay, just as she had so many years before. And smiled, as he got to his feet and made the trek back to the mansion, alone.


End file.
